Born. Out of Time.

Or at least out of place. A pervasive feeling of not belonging, a contrarions, contrarion.

Being a parent, but not really being a parent. The nonbiological kind, I had/have no clue a “best” way to “parent”. Nothing instinctual other than learning from books, radio and TV programs.

Having had parents, but not really having had parents. Both accepting some vague notion of responsibility for the creation, yet with some underlying conception that they would have been equally satisfied with robots or monkeys.

Being a son, but not really being a son. Heavily influenced on how to be and behave as expected, opposed to “knowing” from internal emotions and genuine respect.

Being educated, but not really, save knowing how to balance a checkbook and read. That and being just smart enough to know how dumb I am.

Any perceived intelligence is gleaned from my awareness to keep mouth shut appropriately.

Being kind, but not really kind as reading this proves I can’t even be kind to myself. Externally learned, internally churned.

Being funny, but not really being funny. More often than not, I’m the only one laughing as to what comes out of my mouth, or thoughts that seep into my consciousness. Stuff no one else would find remotely amusing.